Takoniweha stops by a tree

And in his terror
Takoniweha fled
up the path towards
the place they said never to go
and he stumbled on a root and fell
scratching the whole side
of his leg and his arm
on the rough bark of a young oak tree
he stopped
he rubbed his elbow
which had taken most of the strike
and heard nothing but
the pounding in his ears
he knew it was too loud:
again the wars would begin
it would be his fault this time
he should have listened
it would be his sin this time
he had to calm down
and listen
he moved around the tree
out of the view from the path
just in case

The pounding of his heart
echoed in the thoughts
of the trees around him
they were awakening to his fear
they felt his angst
they obeyed their nature:
with their characteristic generosity
they gave it back to him;
over him flooded the fear
it surged out of the hearts
of the pine, the maple, the elm
from their roots the trees
gave him what he gave them
as they had always done
and they began to broadcast it out
to the people:
absolute terror

Across the continent
at that very moment
in a very ancient grove
of giant fir trees
Kehanenawa sat
weaving a basket
from the bark of a fragrant
basswood tree
She was happy, and sang
the song of peace
which was enchanted
by all the soft-winged creatures
who inhabited the same grove
never before had a being
projected such peace and contentment
this song blossomed and echoed
through the forest grove
and was magnified
by these trees
through other trees
Until it spread its joy
across the peaceful land
and even into the heart of
Takoniweha’s darkness.

Takoniweha felt the
sweet peace of the distant trees
as men sometimes do
now his heart could withstand
the catastrophic assault
and he finally understood
that the trees had
fulfilled their destiny
finally they had communicated
with a being who understood
trees do not cause despair and death:
they magnify and communicate
the death that is given to them.

And he sent his own sudden peace
back across the land
And there was no longer fear or war
and this lasted for ten thousand years.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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